Family Time Communication Questions

Every evening our family sits down together to eat. It get's a little crazy here, especially on the days we have all seven, but I know that no matter how hectic the day gets, I can always look forward to the uninterrupted family time that I so cherish. We go around the table asking specific questions about each other's day and talk about anything we feel we need to, highs and lows.

Gosh, I can't tell you how good it feels to have that open dialogue and the wonders it does for our closeness. I can't recommend it enough. If you're like me, you're always scouting refreshing ways to talk to your spouse and your kiddos. I stumbled upon a sweet little list today that may help you out.

*Long side note*
This list is specific to school aged children, but don't forget to ask your spouse about their day and let the children join in the conversation. Often, we forget to talk about what we do all day when we are not around our kids, but discussing our work with children can better expand their knowledge and understanding of the world and how things work. and to the parents who are able to stay at home or work from home, your job (really... JOBS) may seem mundane at times, maybe even seemingly unimportant, but it is a huge responsibility and discussing it with children and your spouse is not only cathartic, but just as informative to your spouse and children.

25 Ways to Ask Your Kids 'So How Was School Today?' Without Asking Them 'So How Was School Today?'

Rehab the Nympho!

Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
~Erica Jong

Man, Last week was challenging for me SoCal is in the middle of a heatwave and I DO NOT handle heat well, plus, I am under a tremendous amount of financial strain, which, like most, affects me adversely. Poor J, He had to deal with not only the heat, but ME as well.

Different relationships have different expectations which bring out different behaviors. J makes me feel safe enough to be completely open and safe to admit my failures. This environment is conducive to my personal growth. I am becoming increasingly self aware which is making it easier to progress through difficult situations. I know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that my partner wants the best for me, that support is priceless.

J gently admitted that my sexual appetite is a little much for him right now, and just like supply and demand, when you have too much of something, the value decreases. Honestly, hearing that felt like a sucker punch. All I heard was, "Heather, I don't like sex with you as much as I used to, you crazy nympho." which of course, is not what he was saying at all. I have to remember that I am in my sexual prime, so I am going to want sex way more than the average guy. In addition, I went from barely getting any sex to getting it on the daily, and, like a fat kid tasting cake for the first time, I because gluttonous for a good thing.

J wants to use some of the time that we'd normally spend shagging, to talk more... you know, that little thing called communication that I recently [read: within the last twelve months] discovered I'm not that great at. Soooo... I guess we're going to be doing that.

All sarcasm aside, I would happily give up half of the sex J and I have to invest in a deeper understanding of one another. I love how this man challenges my mindset, coaches me on how to be a more assertive woman and not settle for an obedient, mundane life. I enjoy the results of the progress I've already made. As confusing as change can be sometimes, I am excited to continue to uncover the woman that's been stifled inside all these years, and bloom with a man who understands how to inspire the best from me.

Life of TheStigMom Part One:BabyStig

Just a little history for those who like reading about other people’s stories.

The history of my mom and dad is the typical American love story.. Ya know… Divorced mother of one (my mom) meets “SD” at a bar, they have sex, “SD” ends up having a family of his own and when my mom tells “SD” she is pregnant, “SD” told my mom to get lost or SHE would ruin his family.  Sigh Real winner, that one.

So with my Sperm Donor out of the picture, my mother set out to have me on her own. Now, my mom had been living with one of the worst cases of MS that the specialists in Washington State had ever documented. She was advised to abort me, Her mother pleaded with her, worried for her safety. My mother was told she wouldn’t survive the pregnancy, if she did survive, I wouldn’t, and if I did… there was only a slim chance I would be born healthy.

My mom chose life, I was born healthy, but she lost the use of her legs and the doctors told her she would never walk again. My single, disabled mother of two, didn’t believe them and with determination… she was eventually able to get out of her wheelchair. She did the very best she could. She was a very determined woman, but her struggles were just beginning. I don’t know what caused my mother to lose her mind, the disease, genetics, the medications, I really don’t expect answers.  The fact remains she did. 

Before I left the hospital, a few days old, my mother thought it’d be okay to feed me mashed potatoes. Even with family taking turns coming to help her care for us, she’d forget feedings, forget she even had children for hours at a time. I was hospitalized with a Failure to thrive (FTT). I don’t really remember anything, being that young, but do know that’s when my 8 year old sister, H, started caring for me. She was my little mommy.  I loved her more than I loved anything else.

My mother wasn’t a monster. I know that a woman has needs, and even with her illness (turned mental illness), my single mother needed to feel loved, she needed the attention of men. She’d bring men home and sometimes those men would find her two little daughters attractive too. Get where I’m going with this? This I remember clearly. My older sister always did her best to protect me from the harm these savage men would do. She’d sneak me into her room in a pile of blankets, she’d lock her doors… she was braver than any child should have to be. My sister was my protector, my hero. Some days our mother would lose her patience, her anger usually spewed unto my sister. I remember our mom telling H things like I was her favorite, how she was ugly... I remember my sister taking the blame for little insignificant things that I did (not even two years old I was probably a mess maker) and getting whipped with the cord of the vacuum, and I remember being left alone, a lot. My sister would hurry back from school each day to take care of me. Until one day she came home and I wasn’t there.

That day a woman came to the door. I was used to random people coming in and talking to my mother, we lived blocks away from a Jehovah’s witness church and really, my mother rarely turned anyone away who came to talk about Jesus. That day, however, the woman didn’t come to talk about God, She came to remove me from the home. My mother called me from the kitchen into the livingroom. I remember the look on her face. The lady offered me a stuffed animal but I was hesitant to go near her. My mother must have been lucid that day, She was calm, but her eyes were sad as she forced a smile and said it was alright to go. She hugged me tight and told me she loved me. The sky was clear, the air was warm and the calm and gentle movements of my caseworker’s car lulled me to sleep. It was a short car ride and the crunch of the gravel stirred me awake in time to watch the car pull in to the driveway of my new life.